“The white man is bad, he’s making the black people work for free, they are slaves” I say. “Remember”, then I stop, I was about to remind Jack of the clip of news he walked in on, that I turned off immediately, but not soon enough for Jack to ask me questions. “Why are those people doing that?” He asked. “Because they are racist, the guys in white are bad.” It was the morning after the Charlotte riots, when the white supremacists were upset because the city of Charlotte, NC, decided to take down a statue of Andrew Jackson, because he was a slave owner and the statue is a symbol of white supremacy that was erected after civil rights were won. Theory being, to keep the fear of what was, of southern white privilege. I don’t like using the words black people, white people, I never have. I’m white and live, unfortunately in a very white county. My kids are turning four years old and I’ve taken them across the bridge to the East Bay or to the city as many days of the week as possible. I don’t want them living in a white privileged bubble, even though that’s where we do live. As I read the story of Harriet Tubman, a book Jack picked out at the book store yesterday, I am having trouble simplifying the story enough for four-year old’s. I don’t like saying “Black people” because I’ve never talked like that, as if that were something I needed to point out. I try to read the story, which is an amazing children’s book, all about the underground railroad. Jack and Fiona can understand hiding and escaping. Harriet Tubman was a hero, rescuing people. “Are those bad people” Jack asks during the underground railroad scenes. “No, some white people were good, are good. They helped the slaves escape.” Slavery is a horrible story, as I sit here and write this I start to cry. Terrible things happened in our country. I change the subject from skin color to freedom, civil rights, and how important it is for them to vote when they turn 18. Jack says, “and when we turn 5 we’re going to kindergarten.” I end on Harriet Tubman was a hero and you guys can be heroes too. Protect civil rights, equality. They both understand what equal means and give me many examples. They get it. I wanted to explain to Fiona she is getting services for her hearing loss because of battles won for people with disabilities but I think that she’s too young for that lesson. It’s hard to know what kids are ready to learn about, but they are curious and want to learn. I am bad at filtering information, I just hope they don’t think all white people are bad! But I think because of our countries history and living in such a white county it’s natural to have suspicions and I would rather my kids know when someone is being racist than ever think it’s o.k. to talk bad about someone because of what they look like.
Category: parenting
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No internet. That’s good. I was just about to go fiddle around on there instead of writing in my only few minutes to spare today, Jack is watching The Lego Show and Fiona is in the bath, it’s been quite a week. Wait, it’s almost halfway into the next week. Days blend into one another, weekends don’t change for me as far as needed engagement in life, lives of others. I wonder about the other moms at the gymnastics class that yell down from the observation deck “That way lily” and before they get that out they yell the kids name a gazillion times trying to get their attention, “Lily, Lily, Lily” distracting all the other kids, so pretty soon all the kids are yelling up “Hi Mommy” and half the kids aren’t paying attention to the coach, so then all the moms start shouting down to all their kids and it’s extremely annoying. How do they have the energy to be engaged with their kid even when they shouldn’t be? Fiona does great at gymnastics, she listens to all the directions and pays close attention to the coach. Fiona can’t hear and listens to directions better than Jack. Jack takes a while to warm up, even on his second visit today. He started sucking his thumb. Finally, he jumps in, but not reserved -no- balls to the walls, skips the listening part 50% of the time. “Slow Down Jack, you’re gonna get hurt” the Coach says over and over. “I can do it by myself” He tells her when she gives him direction on a backwards roller move. “No Jack, I’ll help you” she tells him. He finally listens. I had to not yell “Listen to the teacher Jack” from the observation deck, that would be inappropriate. I’m not like the other moms. I study my sign, they look at smart phones, in between watching their kids and telling them which way to run. At home, after Fiona got home from school I was trying to spend time with her, Jack immediately started acting out; grabbing her toys we were playing with, not listening when I said “NO”, being obnoxious. “I have to go put away the groceries” I tell them. “Play nice, keep your hands to yourself.” The groceries have been sitting in the hall since Jack and I got home, I haven’t had time to put them away yet. I’m carrying up the last set of bags and I hear a door slam, over and over again, then a bang and a cry. I run down, there’s a big gap between the first cry, it’s quiet, that’s usually a bad sign. Jack has a bright red bruise slash across the bridge of his nose, it looks painful. My paintings on the floor, he slammed the door so hard the painting fell off the wall and whacked him in the face. He’s so full of energy and moodiness. He’s shy and gregarious. He’s super sweet, caring, and loving, but difficult. He fell asleep and Fiona and I had a nice rest. When he woke up he told me he slammed the door on purpose, to keep Fiona out of the room. “It could have been your eye” I said, “It could have been Fionas’ hand”. I don’t know, I’m afraid he’s going to be the kind of kid that does dumb stuff, out of frustration or for thrills. I can’t wait till Thursday and Friday to get some time in my studio. I’m going to do my radio interview this week and I have a talk I’m doing at the gallery on Saturday. Things to look forward to outside of the world of Motherhood.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 